“Well, just help yourself to my cat. That’s not—” I stopped as Rhage rose, stretching his kitty head toward Brock’s large hand, rubbing against him. Disgusted, I shook my head. That cat was also an asshole. “That’s bullshit.”

Scratching Rhage behind the ear, he looked over his shoulder at me. “Your language is burning my innocent ears.”

“Oh, shut up. You cuss worse than a drunken sailor tossed overboard into a swarm of tiger sharks.” Unfolding my arms, I walked over to the wine.

He raised an eyebrow as I took a drink from the bottle and then murmured, “You’re going down that route again? If so, I am so glad I’m here.”

Eyes narrowed, I clutched the bottle to my chest. “Okay. It’s time to get real. What was the purpose of tonight, and don’t tell me it’s because of Thanksgiving. You had ample opportunity to talk to me about that. There was no reason for you to hunt me down on a date, interrupt it, and ruin it.”

“I ruined your date?” He laughed as he straightened, facing me. “That guy didn’t have a chance in hell with you.”

“How would you know?” I fired back.

He took a step toward me, and I stepped to the side, keeping a safe distance between us. He kept coming in a slow, measured approached, causing a dizzying flutter in my chest. “I just do.”

“That’s laughable.” I kept inching away from him as he slowly followed my movements. “You even admitted that you didn’t know me anymore.”

“That’s not exactly what I said, Jillian.” His eyes glimmered as he lowered his chin. “You tell me one thing about little Grady that excites you.”

Excites me? My pulse was all over the place at the moment, and it had nothing to do with Grady or the wine I’d just guzzled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Why?” One more step and he was about a foot from me.

My apartment wasn’t that large, so I found myself with my back almost against the wall. “Because it’s—it’s inappropriate!”

“Inappropriate?” His laugh was deep and rough. Sexy. A fine series of shivers danced down my arms. “Why in the hell is this inappropriate?”

“Because—because you’re my boss.”

“I am not just your boss. Have you forgotten that I literally had to carry you upstairs and put you to bed after you got into your dad’s liquor cabinet and drank for the first time?” he asked. “Or the fact that you’ve been there for me, for some of the darkest moments of my life? Helping me change into clean clothes because I was too fucked up on pain meds and alcohol to even know what year I was in?”